


Keep All Your Secrets

by fadeoutslow



Category: Formula 1 RPF
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2014-01-23
Updated: 2014-01-23
Packaged: 2018-01-09 19:08:04
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,342
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/1149712
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/fadeoutslow/pseuds/fadeoutslow
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Antti and Heikki have things to discuss.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Keep All Your Secrets

Antti goes home over Christmas, only a brief respite from the endless travelling, but he's not complaining. He loves his job, always has, and his _new_ job is going to be even better, he's sure. People forget sometimes, he thinks, that the drivers aren't the only ones in Formula 1 with ambitions, and to be working with someone like Sebastian, training a world champion at the pinnacle of his career, is something Antti's been working toward for a long time.

He'll miss Jev, of course, but they'll still see each other, still be friends, and they're both probably well overdue for a change-up, some kind of fresh challenge.

Heikki's sent him detailed plans of Seb's training schedule, the physical therapy and massages that work best for him, past and current injuries and problem areas, guides for his nutrition and mental preparation and Antti's pored over it all. He's pretty impressed, frankly, by how exhaustive Heikki's notes are but there are things that can't be conveyed in writing, he knows, things that are too subtle, too delicate and fragile.

Too _personal_.

Because Antti might have known Seb a long time, technically even longer than Heikki has, but the relationship between a driver and his trainer is something unique, something special, a bond that exists on an entirely different level of intimacy. Antti will need to know Seb better than he knows himself, and he's aware it will be an adjustment, for both of them, that there will be a period of transition, but he's determined to make it as easy and seamless as is possible.

So he calls Heikki, who is back in Helsinki, and they arrange to meet.

-

"Coffee," Antti says, and the waitress nods. She looks up as the door of the cafe opens, cold air briefly rushing into the heated room, and Antti can tell by the awed expression on her face that it's Heikki who's just walked in. 

The guy's always had that effect on people, and Antti's sometimes wondered how he deals with it, whether he's actually as oblivious to the admiration he gets as he appears to be. But then perhaps being oblivious _is_ how he deals with it.

"Hey," Heikki says, sitting down, unwrapping his scarf from around his neck.

"Hey," says Antti, back.

Heikki orders a coffee from the wide-eyed waitress, then, when she leaves, says, "So."

"Yeah." Antti grins at him. "How are you?"

"Good," says Heikki. "I'm good."

"No regrets?" Antti asks, lightly, but he's genuinely curious.

Heikki shrugs. "No," he says, "no regrets." And he sounds a little _surprised_ , Antti notes, which is interesting, to say the least.

Their coffees arrive and they get down to it, Antti listening as Heikki talks about how Seb will forget to eat sometimes when he's really, really focused, about how he won't always say when his knees are giving him trouble, that his right shoulder gets tense and needs extra massaging, that he doesn't like to talk before a race, needs quiet to get into the zone, but that he likes to joke around a bit during training. Seb's not someone who needs to be pushed, Heikki says, more a person who you need to watch isn't pushing himself too hard. 

Antti nods, taking it all in, until Heikki swallows down the last of his coffee, placing the cup carefully back in the saucer, angling the handle till it's lined up straight.

"The main thing," he says, looking down at the table for a moment but then back up, his eyes very, very blue, "is that he's not one of those guys who expects you to be a mind reader." The corner of his mouth curls up in what could be the vaguest hint of a smile, but as he continues, he seems almost sad, wistful. "He'll tell you what he wants, he'll always be clear, but he _will_ expect you to remember, and he _will_ get pissed if you don't."

"Sure," Antti says, because he understands. Neither of them speak for a minute, and Heikki finally sits back in his chair, apparently finished.

"Can I ask you one more thing?" asks Antti.

"Of course."

"You don't have to answer, but…" Antti hesitates, because maybe it's none of his business, but he needs to know. "Why are you leaving?"

Heikki shrugs. "You know how it is." 

"No," Antti says, "I really don't."

"Just…" Heikki shakes his head. "All the travel. Never being home." Antti would bet that there's more to it than that, but he doesn't push, waiting for Heikki to go on, which, after a pause, he does. "And the attention," he says. He huffs out a breath that could pass for an embarrassed laugh. "I didn't like the attention."

Antti smiles at him, quite certain he's not getting the whole story, but then he wouldn't expect to. "Well," he says, "I'm sure I won't get as much attention as you."

Heikki smiles back and Antti realizes it's the first time he's seemed even the smallest bit relaxed since he sat down. "No," he says, firmly, holding Antti's gaze, "I think you'll get plenty of attention."

And Antti can't help himself, laughing, biting his lip before he says, "Not like you."

"I don't know," Heikki says, smirking, and it would appear, Antti thinks, that Heikki's pretty comfortable with _his_ attention, and that is definitely not a bad thing. 

Not bad at all.

"Is there anything else?" he asks, his voice deliberately lower. "That Seb likes?" Because that's why they're _really_ here, to answer that question.

"Well…"  Heikki draws out the word. "There is. But I'll have to…" He stops, tilts his head to one side, considering, and he's not just being flirtatious, Antti's sure, this is sincere. "I'll have _show_ you," Heikki finishes, and Antti gestures to the waitress for their bill.

-

Heikki's flat isn't far, but it's unexpectedly impersonal, more like a hotel room. They take off their coats, and Antti glances around as Heikki throws his keys on the table, takes his phone out of his pocket and puts it down. "This is just a temporary place," he says, "until I find something more permanent."

Antti nods. He knows exactly what it's like to have no proper home, everywhere just another stop on the way to somewhere else. "So," he says, assuming they're past trying to be coy about why they're here, "what else does Seb like?"

Heikki steps closer, gently grasping Antti's waist, and the touch may be tentative, but his hands are large and warm, even through Antti's clothes. "He's not like the other drivers," Heikki says. "It's not just stress relief for him." There's something far away about his voice, the way he's not _quite_ meeting Antti's eyes. "I mean," he goes on, "it is, but he likes to be fucked…" he smiles, as if he's remembering something, " _thoroughly_."

"Thoroughly," Antti repeats, and maybe it's an odd choice of word, but he's in no position to judge.

"He'll want you to kiss him." Heikki moves his hands up until they're resting on Antti's shoulders. "Like this," he says, leaning in. And it might be slow, unhurried, but it's no less hot for it, Heikki's mouth open wide against Antti's as he pulls him nearer, grip tightening, tongue lazily aggressive past Antti's lips, licking over his teeth, and it goes on and on, Antti finding it hard not to lose himself in the feeling.

And when Heikki finally moves back, it seems for a second as if he's about to speak, but instead he takes hold of the the hem of Antti's t-shirt, pulling it over his head. Antti raises his arms, running one hand through his hair as Heikki throws the shirt to one side. He studies Antti's body for a minute, looking him up and down, something vaguely clinical about his stare, but then he shakes his head, murmuring a few indistinguishable words as he strips off his own clothes.

Antti doesn't question him, just kicks off his shoes, steps out of his jeans and underwear.

"Okay," Heikki says, as if he's made a decision, and he leads Antti into the bedroom, kissing him briefly once again as he backs Antti up to the bed, hand in the centre of his chest, pushing him enough that Antti takes the hint, lets himself fall backwards.

Heikki climbs on to the bed, looming over him, and he's so _big_ , Antti thinks. He's not small himself, but with him it's all muscle, whereas Heikki's _solid_ in a way that feels somehow more real, more authentic.

"What would Seb want next?" Antti asks, hearing the hitch in his own voice as Heikki takes his cock in hand, giving it a few strokes before he arranges himself on his hands and knees, over Antti's body.

"He'll want you to suck him," says Heikki. "And like this, with him on his back."

"Yeah?"

"Yeah." Heikki's not looking at him, lips hovering over Antti's cock, breath ghosting across the skin like the barest caress. "He won't want you on your knees." He licks once, twice, making Antti gasp, then says, "And he doesn't like anything complicated, no tricks."

"No tricks." Antti tries not to sound needy, impatient, but he's more than ready. "That's what I like, too."

"Good," Heikki says, not giving Antti a chance to reply, mouth surrounding him, soft, silken heat like something extraordinary, and Antti lies back, tries to hold on. Heikki moves up and down, pausing every so often to suck on the head, the tip of his tongue working at the ridge, and  Antti can _hear_ it, the small, wet sounds in the silence of the room, his own inhalations echoing in his ears as he gets closer, closer.

"Does he come in your mouth?" he asks, breathless.

Heikki hums a second, the vibrations making Antti squirm, but then he pulls off, sits up. "No," he says. 

He leans over, grabs some supplies from the drawer in the table beside the bed. "Turn over," he says.

"Why?"

"That's how he likes it," Heikki says, "from behind."

"And how do _you_ like it?" Antti asks him, curious, perhaps wanting to challenge, just to see what will happen.

But Heikki only looks back at him, something distant in his face, something removed. "That doesn't matter," he says. "Not anymore."

"It matters to me," says Antti.

"No." Heikki shakes his head. "No, it doesn't."

And Antti _thinks_ about it, but he doesn't push, instead turning over obediently, trying not to moan as Heikki drags him up on to his hands and knees, slicked up fingers into Antti's ass with no pause. 

"How does he like to be fucked?" he says, distracted, trying to concentrate, relax himself. "Hard?"

"Yeah." Heikki's voice is softer now, more conciliatory, but he doesn't stop, another thick, relentless finger inside. "Hard and slow."

The words send a shiver of anticipation through Antti's body, and he's suddenly empty, feeling the bed move, hearing the tear of the condom packet, and he braces himself, ready. 

Heikki's true to his word, entering him at such a controlled, exacting pace that it's all Antti can do not to shove his hips back, impatient to take it all, but he schools himself to be still, wait, knowing how much better it will be. And it _is_ , Heikki beginning to fuck him at a steady, even pace, hard enough that it's bordering on overwhelming, the _force_ of Heikki's whole body slamming into him, and Antti falls forward, arms buckling beneath him, his face pressed against the mattress. Heikki's got one hand on Antti's hip, holding him up, and the other takes hold of his cock, moving with firm, efficient strokes.

And Antti couldn't say how long Heikki fucks him, but it _feels_ like a long, long time, almost ruthless in the way he keeps on, unrelenting, even after Antti comes, and it's so _good_ , but Antti somehow can't escape the feeling that this is a _punishment_ , and not for him.

This is Heikki's game, and Antti would wonder what's _really_ been going on between Heikki and Seb except he he's pretty sure he already knows.

So he takes it, head starting to spin with dizziness, until Heikki grunts, one last, rough thrust into Antti, and then he's done, pulling out almost immediately, heading into the bathroom, the door closing behind him. And Antti supposes he's got no right to expect anything more, because this isn't about him, about Antti.

None of this, it seems, is about him.

He shifts, wincing at the feel of his ass as he climbs off the bed, and when he stands up, he finds he has to take a moment, breathe until he's balanced enough to move, but he's soon walking back into the living room, picking up his clothes, dressing himself. He's sitting on a chair, putting on his socks when Heikki wanders in, still naked, scratching absently at his belly, seeming slightly lost, unsettled, as if this wasn't perhaps what he expected, and maybe neither of them is going to get what they really want, but that's how life works out, sometimes.

Antti's bent over, lacing up his shoes, and he feels Heikki's fingers run through his hair, half-heartedly pushing it back to the side. Antti smiles up at him. "Bedhead," he says.

"More like sex hair," Heikki says, his face softening a little. "But you always look like you have sex hair."

Antti gets up, shrugs. "That's how I like it." He regards Heikki for a second, wondering if he should kiss him goodbye, but somehow that doesn't seem _right_. "Well," he says.

And Heikki looks him in the eye and says, quietly, "Take care of him."

"You know I will," Antti says, and he means it. He's being given something, he knows, something precious, and he'll do everything in his power to live up to that.

"Yeah." Heikki nods. "I know."

Antti makes to leave, but then he stops, thoughtful, and says, "You take care of yourself, too."

"Sure," says Heikki, but he's already turning away.


End file.
